My blogging has reached an all-time high. Three posts in one week? Who do I think I am? Some world-traveler that's got exciting stories to share?
Here's my new mantra: When the going gets tough, the tough get blogging.
See what I did there?
...Anyways. I'm about 8 pages into this Old Testament paper, and hardly through 1st Samuel. So, I'm off to immerse myself in all things coffee-shop and let my skin slowly graft to my chair and not leave until this paper is done.
Or at least until I have to come back and get ready for work.
That's right. Return of the full tuxedo tonight.
It's been so long.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Friday, October 29, 2010
meredith gray moment.
I can't believe I'm about to do this. I mean, this pretty much goes against every code of anything I've ever thought of blogging and journaling in general. But sometimes, you need to do a little outlandish on the blog to snap everybody's attention.
Ha, no. I see what you're thinking. No nudee photos here.
ew.
Ready for this? Entry from my PRIVATE journal dated from October 29, 2008...exactly two years ago.
"I need to become super productive. This really needs to happen. I need to do my homework. Study like crazy and get really awesome grades. That is super important to me. I just am not sure what to write on..."
Observations:
1) valley girl.
2) i woke up this morning and thought this exact same thought... my how I've [not] grown.
3) what am i doing? i'm blogging. clearly being "super productive" is not as "super important" to me as I swore it was
4) awesome grades? can grades even be awesome?
Anddddd, there was a lot more dirt in there but I do have some sense of self-preservation.
stay tuned. entry dated 10/24/08 started out with:
"i feel like i'm on crazy pills."
Ha, no. I see what you're thinking. No nudee photos here.
ew.
Ready for this? Entry from my PRIVATE journal dated from October 29, 2008...exactly two years ago.
"I need to become super productive. This really needs to happen. I need to do my homework. Study like crazy and get really awesome grades. That is super important to me. I just am not sure what to write on..."
Observations:
1) valley girl.
2) i woke up this morning and thought this exact same thought... my how I've [not] grown.
3) what am i doing? i'm blogging. clearly being "super productive" is not as "super important" to me as I swore it was
4) awesome grades? can grades even be awesome?
Anddddd, there was a lot more dirt in there but I do have some sense of self-preservation.
stay tuned. entry dated 10/24/08 started out with:
"i feel like i'm on crazy pills."
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
cyclone warning.
Apparently, some mad gusts of winds are coming into the Windy City (go figure) and people have been asking me if they'll cancel school.
Probably not. You know why? Because Moody won't cancel class unless the rapture is happening--at which point, if the whole of the campus is not already caught up with the Lord, then I'd be concerned.
So. We're alive in the Windy City. And no windows have fallen out of buildings. Yet.
Unrelated to the wind blowing, I... feel like a monster. Today, especially. But not like a Cyclone monster or anything that does huge damages to structures and buildings. More like the monster that lurks under your bed and grabs your ankles as you try to dart from bed to bathroom. Or I feel like the little old lady from Hansel and Grettle, that lured the children in with gumdrops and candy canes and sticks of sugar- things that looked good, and ended them up in a load of trouble.
"You seem like you've got it all together, though. I don't really understand why you feel like that."
Because you don't see my heart. You don't see the sin that I struggle with. You don't see the way my mind races and I give over into anxiety, and telling the Lord, "I AM RIGHT. LET ME DO THIS ON MY OWN!"
It's like, my whole life I'm playing this tug of war game with the Lord, and we're wrestling back and forth and I'm screaming and tugging with all my might, and occasionally it seems like He'll give a little. But then He fastens His grip tighter still and I've lost, and I'm getting pulled over the boundary line. But I'm not spinning into the fireplace and splitting my eyebrow open. Instead, I've somehow been pulled right into His arms, which have managed to stay open and waiting all the while strong and defiant against my sense of self and entitlement.
So there I am. The pulling is done and I'm weak and tired, and my hands are blistered from holding on too tight. And as He lifts my hands open to survey the damage from this struggle, He tells me:
"You are no monster. You belong to me... and besides. You don't have half as many warts as that that Old Witch in Hansel and Gretel."
And then as I sit in His lap, a small child in the arms of a big Father, He sings to me:
Hope. Peace. Love. Forgiveness.
Oh, Forgiveness.
Amen.
Probably not. You know why? Because Moody won't cancel class unless the rapture is happening--at which point, if the whole of the campus is not already caught up with the Lord, then I'd be concerned.
So. We're alive in the Windy City. And no windows have fallen out of buildings. Yet.
Unrelated to the wind blowing, I... feel like a monster. Today, especially. But not like a Cyclone monster or anything that does huge damages to structures and buildings. More like the monster that lurks under your bed and grabs your ankles as you try to dart from bed to bathroom. Or I feel like the little old lady from Hansel and Grettle, that lured the children in with gumdrops and candy canes and sticks of sugar- things that looked good, and ended them up in a load of trouble.
"You seem like you've got it all together, though. I don't really understand why you feel like that."
Because you don't see my heart. You don't see the sin that I struggle with. You don't see the way my mind races and I give over into anxiety, and telling the Lord, "I AM RIGHT. LET ME DO THIS ON MY OWN!"
It's like, my whole life I'm playing this tug of war game with the Lord, and we're wrestling back and forth and I'm screaming and tugging with all my might, and occasionally it seems like He'll give a little. But then He fastens His grip tighter still and I've lost, and I'm getting pulled over the boundary line. But I'm not spinning into the fireplace and splitting my eyebrow open. Instead, I've somehow been pulled right into His arms, which have managed to stay open and waiting all the while strong and defiant against my sense of self and entitlement.
So there I am. The pulling is done and I'm weak and tired, and my hands are blistered from holding on too tight. And as He lifts my hands open to survey the damage from this struggle, He tells me:
"You are no monster. You belong to me... and besides. You don't have half as many warts as that that Old Witch in Hansel and Gretel."
And then as I sit in His lap, a small child in the arms of a big Father, He sings to me:
Hope. Peace. Love. Forgiveness.
Oh, Forgiveness.
Amen.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
it only takes a spark.
Is she dead? You asked yourself that this morning when you typed in my http and found no new post on here.
I just wanted to put your fears to rest and let you know that I am in fact, very un-dead. Very much alive, very much exhausted, and very much anticipating a trip to the great state of California to visit my hipster brother David.
He has a beard and everything.
In the meantime, savor this post and gear up for the next one. There's some meaty stuff to throw in here.
I just wanted to put your fears to rest and let you know that I am in fact, very un-dead. Very much alive, very much exhausted, and very much anticipating a trip to the great state of California to visit my hipster brother David.
He has a beard and everything.
In the meantime, savor this post and gear up for the next one. There's some meaty stuff to throw in here.
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